Throwing a Lifeline
by lil-rock14
Summary: Post TSRtS. "Destiny, fate, prophecies. What does it say about you?" Sequel to Loose Lips and Sinking Ships


**Throwing a Lifeline**

**This is a sequel to my story Loose Lips and Sinking Ships. This is just a conversation between Dean and Castiel after he fully regained consciousness. Can be seen as either friendship or pre-slash.**

Summary: Post TSRtS. "Destiny, fate, prophecies. What does it say about you?" Sequel to Loose Lips and Sinking Ships

**Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the idea behind this story. **

Dean had Castiel on his knees and head bowed in front of him. "Cas." He took a step to him and brought his eyes up when he lifted his chin. "Please?"

"Okay." Castiel took out his sword and held it out to Dean.

Dean took it from Castiel, his hands shaking. "You have to do this, Cas. For me."

Castiel nodded, unable to trust his voice. He bowed his head. Dean walked to Castiel's back, staring at the exposed back of his neck. He put a hand on the angel's shoulder, the other raising the sword. He brought it down to the same place he saw Castiel stab to kill his two brothers.

A bright, white light filled the room, but Dean found himself not blinking or shying away from it.

And then the room darkened again.

He pulled the sword from Castiel's body and stepped back to put some distance between them. Castiel's body fell to the ground with a thump.

"Cas?" Dean whispered. He dropped the sword to the floor. "Cas?" He fell to his knees and gathered the dead angel in his arms. "I'm sorry." He cradled Castiel's head to his chest, as he cried into the crown of the angel's head.

"Dean?" Dean ignored the voice of someone who sounded like Castiel calling his name. But he knew that it was his imagination, because he killed him. But he heard the voice again. "Dean?"

LRLRLRLRLRLRLR

Someone was calling his name. He felt a hand on his chest shaking him back into the world of the awake. "Dean?" someone called again.

He opened his eyes and saw Castiel sitting up and leaning over him. "Yeah, Cas?" he groaned.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"You were talking in your sleep."

Dean wondered how loud he actually was speaking. He looked over and saw that Sam was still sleeping on the other bed in the room. He figured that it was only loud enough for Castiel to hear since they were sharing the same bed.

Dean sighed. "Go back to sleep, Cas." Castiel nodded. He was tired and still healing, and because of that, he was taking every opportunity to recuperate that he could. He was about to lie down again, but he started coughing. Dean sat up quickly, putting a hand on Castiel's back, hoping that it would give him some comfort. He waited for the coughing to die down, but it only got worse. After a few minutes, the coughing stopped, and Castiel's hands were covered in blood. "You're coughing up blood again. I thought you were getting better." It had been four days since they returned to their correct time. Castiel had been unconscious most of it, but when he was awake, he only looked like he was getting better. He hadn't coughed up blood since the first night. The fact that he was coughing up blood again worried Dean.

"I am."

"So what…" his voice trailed when he actually thought about it. "Damnit, Cas." He jumped out of bed and turned on the bedside lamp. He grabbed the nearest towel. Most of them were already covered with Castiel's blood. He turned on the lamp and started to wipe the blood off of Castiel's face. "Tell me you didn't."

Sam groaned when he was met with light. "What's going on?" he mumbled.

"Nothing. Just go back to sleep."

"Is Cas okay?"

"I'm fine," Castiel replied.

"Liar," Dean whispered through gritted teeth.

"You need my help?"

"Just go back to sleep," Dean said.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, yawned, and did just what his brother told him to do. His snores filled the room a minute later.

"You're angry."

"Why did you do that?" he said, ignoring what Castiel had just said.

"You haven't been sleeping well lately. And you were having a nightmare."

"Then let me have it," Dean growled. He was angry that Castiel was putting his own well-being second. Like always, he put Dean before himself.

"Dean."

"Cas, I've had nightmare for decades before you came along."

"But you were—"

"I wasn't dreaming of Hell, Cas," he sighed. When most of the blood was cleaned off of Castiel's face, Dean threw the towel into the bathroom. He sat back down on the bed.

"You sounded like you were."

"I dreamt about you dying."

"Dean, I can't—"

"I killed you."

"Dean, only an angel—"

"It wasn't Michael. It wasn't Zachariah. It was me. I kill you with your own sword."

"Dean, it was a dream. I know you wouldn't—"

"But I have been," Dean interrupted again. He stared at Castiel who looked like he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He put one hand on Castiel's back and the other on his chest, helping him back into a horizontal position. "Just get some sleep, Cas. We'll figure this out later."

Dean's tone was definite because he knew he had to be. He knew Castiel wanted to know what Dean was talking about, but he wasn't about to tell him. Not any time soon.

Dean watched as Castiel's eyes closed without much of a fight and his breaths evened out. Once he was sure that Castiel fell asleep, he sighed and got out of bed. He looked over at his brother who was dead to the world. He grabbed his keys, and a jacket, then headed out to the car.

He needed to go for a drive.

LRLRLRLRLRLRLR

Castiel didn't wake up again until the next night.

Sam had gone to grab something to eat, not having left the room for a few days. He needed to get out and away from his brother and the unconscious angel. He needed to go research something. Go out on a date. Anything. Just not waste his time in a room when the Apocalypse was happening outside. But Sam knew that his brother wouldn't leave Castiel's side. And he knew that Dean wasn't going to move him until he knew Castiel was all right. Sam had been gone for about an hour.

Dean sat on the other side of Castiel, beer in hand, watching the angel from time to time while the TV played.

He felt movement on the other side of the bed and looked over at Castiel. He set down his beer and put a hand on the angel's chest to keep him from moving around so much. "Cas? You awake?"

"Yes," he groaned. He waited for his eyes to open before he said something else. "You weren't sleeping."

"I'm not tired."

"You're lying."

Dean stood up quickly, hating that Castiel was reading him so easily. "Worry about getting yourself better first before you start worrying about me."

Castiel sighed, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. "I can feel myself mending."

"Not fast enough."

"I'm sorry that I'm a burden to you and your brother. I could—"

"Shut up, Cas." Castiel stared at Dean with his eyes wide. "You aren't a burden. You don't get to say that when I'm the one who put you in this bed." He said that last sentence with his voice barely above a whisper.

"Dean."

"We need to talk."

"Aren't we?"

Dean would've groaned at Castiel not understanding what he meant, but he held back. He didn't need to get frustrated at Castiel for no reason.

He walked over to the side of the bed that Castiel was lying on and sat down next to him. "I have a question for you." He kept his eyes to the floor, not able to look at Castiel while he sat so close to him.

"Okay."

Dean sighed as he shifted in his position on the bed. "When we first got to the past, you said that you were better than you expected, what exactly were you expecting?"

"Not traveling far enough," Castiel whispered.

Dean turned to finally face Castiel and glared at him. It was his turn to call Castiel's bluff. "Liar."

"Dean."

"You thought you were going to die."

"Dean."

"How could you do that?" Dean yelled.

"Do what?"

Dean leaned over his knees and ran his hand through his short hair. He sighed a sign that sounded like it he was in pain. "I refuse to turn into him," Dean whispered.

"Who?"

"The Fearless Leader dick I apparently become five years in the future."

"That was just Zachariah implanting—"

"Some of it was true."

"Dean," Castiel said once more, and Dean was slowly getting tired of the way his name sounded on the angel's lips.

He could hear Castiel chastising him with his tone. "Your loyalty to me. Without question. It was true."

Dean felt the bed shift and heard the sheet rustling. He looked over his shoulder and saw Castiel trying to sit up. Dean spun to help pull him up, then back to lean against the headboard.

"It _is_ true. Dean, you're making decisions that are beneficial for everyone."

"Not for you."

"You're trying to save the world," Castiel argued. "It's one life versus billions."

"But at what cost? I'm supposed to lose you in the process?" He stood up and paced along side the bed. "You die because of me."

"What? Dean. I already said that—"

"No," Dean interrupted, knowing that while Castiel was talking about the past, he wasn't. "In the future. The future Zachariah showed me. You die because of me. I send you to your death."

"I'm—"

"Don't you dare say you're expendable. Don't you dare." He could feel his entire body shaking.

"But—"

"Shut up, Cas. Listen to me." He sighed and ran his hand down his face. He sat down on the edge of Sam's bed, looking at Castiel. "Tell me about your destiny."

"What?"

"Your destiny."

"I thought that you didn't believe in destiny."

"I don't," Dean replied. "But say for a second that I do. About all of it. Destiny, fate, prophecies. What does it say about you?"

"Nothing."

"That's a lie."

"I'm not—"

"You pulled me out of Hell," Dean interrupted.

"I was just the fastest."

"You can't believe that."

"I was. I do. My destiny and yours aren't tied together, Dean. Not like yours and Sam's."

"What does that mean?"

"The fight goes on without me. It stops with you." Dean glared at the angel sitting across from him. "It means you can continue this fight without me."

"You actually believe that?"

"I have to."

Dean rolled his eyes. "So, you don't believe that you have a part to play in my destiny. That God didn't specifically want you to pull me out of Hell? That you're not supposed to be here. Right here, right now. Cas, you can't say you believe in mine and Sam's destiny without looking at your own."

"I don't know what—"

"Is this one of the mysterious ways that your Father is working?" Castiel bit his lip to stay silent. "Is it?"

"I can say something now?"

"Sure," Dean sighed, tired. The past few days of not sleeping, slowly creeping up on him.

"Dean, honestly, I'm probably not going to make it through this."

"Neither am I."

"Dean."

"I know how easily our lives can get snatched from us, Cas. But I know that Michael or Lucifer will probably just put me and Sam back together as many times for as long as they need us. But you… I'm not okay."

"I made the right choice in following you and your brother."

"I know. I'm okay with you dying." Dean shook his head when he realized his choice of words. "I mean, I'm not. But, if you die fighting an angel because of something you really believe in, I'll feel better about it than you dying because I told you to jump off a bridge."

"Why would you—"

Dean held up his hand to interrupt the angel. "Expression, Cas. I'm saying that I'm not okay with you dying on my orders. I'm not okay with you risking your life because I ask you to. I don't even ask. I demand so much from you. Even if I know it can't end well for you."

"Dean, I could say no."

"But you don't."

"Who am I to disagree with you?"

Dean jumped up from Sam's bed. "We keep saying that we're doing this for the world. For humanity. But you're here fighting for us."

"I am."

"But we're… I'm not fighting for you."

"This is your world, Dean. Not mine."

"Then why are you still here?" Dean challenged.

"Because of you."

Dean plopped himself on the edge of his bed, facing, but not looking at the angel. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I know you feel like you need to protect me."

"Yeah, I do because—"

"I can take care of myself," Castiel interrupted politely.

Dean's head shot up. "I'm protecting you from me."

"Why would I need that?" His eyes widened, unsure of what Dean was talking about.

"You're in this bed right now because of me."

"No—"

"Yes, you are. Cas." Dean stopped and rubbed his hand up and down his face, frustrated. "You used to be an angel."

"I still am," he whispered.

"I know. But I mean… you were so sure before. Before you met me. You were badass. I mean, you still are. But as soon as I say I need something, all of that seems to just disappear. You stop thinking logically." Dean paused for a moment to regain himself. "You need to be selfish sometimes."

"I don't know how."

"Just think of yourself first." Dean sighed. "But I know you won't do that. Because that's not you."

"No, it's not." Castiel swallowed and Dean watched as his Adam's apple moved up and down. "Dean, you have to understand, if you die, then there is no reason for me to be here."

"But if you die." Dean paused for a second, needing to think about what he was going to say next. "You say that this fight can continue without you."

"Yes."

"But what if I can't?"

"Dean, the angels—"

"I mean, what if I don't want to fight if you aren't by my side? By mine and Sam's side. How are we… how am I supposed to keep fighting if you died?"

"You'll find a way."

"Cas, you may think that you don't have a big part to play in this fight, that you aren't important. But you're important to us. You're family. And that scares the crap out of me."

"Why?"

"Because we always get our family killed."

"If it makes you feel any better, I've already died. And that wasn't your fault," Castiel said with a small smile on his face.

"You believe that?"

"It was my choice, Dean. You didn't hold a gun to my head."

"I've already shot you. I know that it wouldn't do anything."

Castiel let out a short laugh. "No, it wouldn't. So, you have to realize that my decisions are my own. You can't make me do anything that I don't want to do."

"I know, Cas. I just—"

"You don't think you deserve my loyalty." He said those words slowly, calculating. Like he told Dean that he knew the hunter didn't deserve to be saved when they first met in the barn.

"No, I don't."

"Well, it's a good thing that I don't care about your opinion in that instant." Castiel let out a long yawn. He groaned when he felt the yawn throughout his entire body.

"Okay, enough talking. You need to get back to sleep." He moved and helped Castiel lie down. He watched as the angel's eyes drifted closed and his breathing fell to a slow tempo. He stood up when he thought that he was asleep, but a hand gripping his wrist stopped him from going any further than that.

"Dean, can you come to bed and lie down?"

"I'm not tired," Dean said.

"Yes, you are," he said giving the wrist a squeeze.

"Cas."

"Dean, please."

Dean gave in with those two words. Because he knew how many times he'd said those words and how many times he'd gotten what he wanted. He realized that he needed to return the favor to the angel once in a while. Granted, it was nothing like traveling back in time, or dying, but it was a start.

He walked around to the other side of the bed, wanting to sleep closer to the door. He shed his outer shirt and sat on the bed putting enough space between the two of them. He sat in silence for a few minutes. "I won't sacrifice you to save the world," he whispered.

"I'm all right with it," Castiel said, his voice losing volume with each word. Not even a minute later, exhaustion took over and Castiel was asleep.

All of the fight and adrenaline seeped out of Dean, leaving him just as exhausted as the sleeping angel. He looked over at the angel once more before he slid down the bed. He let out a long yawn as he leaned over to turn off the lamp. He closed his eyes waiting for the dreams or the darkness to come.

"I'm not."

**So, I had this story for awhile, but it just wasn't completely finished. I thought that it needed something more. I felt it was necessary after the episode and my story. Here it is. I hope that it turned out all right. Thanks for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock**


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